The Masterpiece
by kaimelardraug
Summary: Chapter three is up! Well, okay, so it's STILL not much of a story yet, but it will be, I promise! I'm getting there!
1. Raw Materials

The green bag slipped open. A pair of small hands reached in to find a smaller brown bag, which also slid open to liberate the final prize: a triangle of golden yellow cloth and a handful of various colors of thread.  
  
The hands were light, resting for only a soft moment on any one item. The cloth was pressed purposefully to the waiting lap, and the threads placed on top. Blues over here, greens over there, everything in its proper place. A horse sighed somewhere close by, glad that the day was done.  
  
The hands dipped into the resourceful bag again, and this time pulled out a tiny piece of parchment. The parchment was covered in tiny black marks and stains, diffusing throughout the fibers like water. Rough holes lined the edges of the parchment, as if someone had very carefully poked them there with the tip of a dagger. This, too, was placed purposefully on top of the lap and waited for importance to be bestowed upon it.  
  
The pile of blues was picked up, and quickly sorted into not one pile of many blues, but many piles of one shade of blue. The long fingers were fast in their work, as if they had done it many times before, and before long all the colors were sorted and piled in this manner. Each pile was twisted around itself, to bind them together, and then poked through the holes lining the parchment. A simple coil of the fingers and a single, loose knot held the threads to their correct space.  
  
A last search into the contents of the brown bag yielded a single long needle, shining in the glow of the setting sun. The crickets were emboldened by the cool evening air, and began to chirp in their hidden homes among the rocks. The fingers strolled over the parchment, looking for just the right thread color. The greens looked like a good place for a beginning, but which one? and where would it go?  
  
First this color, then that color. Each one was gently lifted from its resting place, studied, then placed back down. The hands frowned, laying flat on the lap in exasperation. The fingers tapped impatiently, waiting for the uncertain hands to make a decision.  
  
Finally, they moved towards a green-silver section. The selection was a thin subdivision, not much more than a half-dozen treads deep. The soft mummers of human conversation floated on the air as the knot was undone. A single thread slithered from the parchment as the rest were firmly tied down again. The end of the thread found its way to the needle, and was coaxed into the tiny opening.  
  
The cloth was picked up, finally ready for its grand destiny. The fingers ran the length of the cloth, ready for action. One finger found a suitable spot, and quickly marked it as the opposite hand ran with the needle to the other side of the cloth.  
  
Deftly, the needle was pushed through and the first stitch complete. 


	2. Sounds and an Author's Note

Arwen's eyes fluttered open. She shivered in the morning chill as she blinked and looked around the rocky area. Aragorn glanced at her sideways. "Morning" he said, resting his head in his hand as he turned back to the surrounding country.  
  
Arwen started to reply and stopped. A faint tinkling sound carried on the light breeze. She sat quietly, willing it to come again, and it did. It was somewhere out to the west, maybe a tiny bit north . . .  
  
"What is it?" Aragorn said, turning around to face her.  
  
"Hu?" she said, distracted.  
  
"What's out there?" he asked, squinting in the direction of Arwen's gaze.  
  
"I don't know. But I'm going to find out," she said and began to gather her things, quickly placing them all in the green bag. "I'll be back later, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, she slid the bag over her shoulder and began to walk into the fog.  
  
*****AUTHOR'S NOTES:  
Okay, people, this one is going to be a long one, so get comfortable. First, I realize that chapter one is not decent on it's own. It's not remotely satisfying, plot moving, related to LOTR, or even really that interesting. I understand that. I kinda said that in the summary. I apologize for the wide time span between that chapter and this half- chapter. In fact, the only reason I posted this chapter in such a sorry state is to help alleviate some of that pain. Please forgive me and come back to read! It will get good, I promise! Second, I have to explain the characters. This is really going to confuse people, I know, but this Arwen is not either of the other Arwens. She is a character I made up on my own. I really liked the character, and I think Arwen is a gorgeous name for an Elf, and I was feeling to lazy to create a name, so I'm using it. If it helps, I gave her a last name: Nightstar. Arwen Nightstar. Ya, I know, not too creative. Once again, if it makes you mad/confused/sad/happy/afraid or any other emotion whatsoever, feel free to review and say so. I'm open to comments, even flames if you really want to. I prefer not though. I also feel a need to comment on my Arwen's background. Yes, she is an Elf, and I've gotten a lot of grief in past Arwen Nightstar stories about how a "proper Elfish maiden" wouldn't be out in the first place, especially not with Aragorn (who is, by the way, her best friend and the one who taught her everything about survival to begin with, so doesn't it make sense they'd travel together?), and blah blah blah. I've also gotten a lot of grief about how Aragorn would never take someone along with him. I could tell you her whole story, but I'm not going to because this Note is already longer than the chapter. Just be happy with these two reasons a) her background and abilities make her a more-than-suitable companion and besides Aragorn has known her for a really long time, and kinda like in My Fair Lady he wouldn't know where to go without her anymore and b) because it's my story and I can do what I want with it, so there! If you don't like it, leave. 


	3. Into the Fog

**_Author's Note_**: HELLO AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!! Well, after quite a long break from writing (haven't updated this story since...November 25th 2003?!?!?!) Laura started writing again, and I was kinda missing the writing anyway, and so ya, here I am! The first few chapters are gonna be tiny, and probably not very good, as I'm VERY rusty, but forgive me anyway and I'll eventually work through it!!!!! Also, any Elvish translations will read like this: _Elvish_ (translation). Fairly straight forward but I thought I'd point it out anyway... Lastly, I'm using the Sindarin translations if anyone is keeping watch over that sort of thing...Arwen is originally from Mirkwood, so I believe that would have been her first language, but feel free to correct me if I'm mistaken!

Arwen hummed quietly to herself as she entered the fog. The quiet grey clouds parted for her, bowing their gentle heads low before swirling back into the mist. She carefully picked her way through the rocks, quickly realizing that the fog, however beautiful, made the rough terrain even harder to cross.

A huge black shadow darted through the clouds ahead. Arwen could barely make out the shape of a cat-like head before it disappeared as quickly as it had come, heading south. "_A!_ _Orodcothea!" _(Ah! Mountain enemies!) she scolded herself, taking half a step backwards and scanning the uniform mists.  
With one hand on her sword hilt, she slowly sat down on a nearby rock, crossing her legs. She listened intently to the wind's messages as she folded the hem of her long gray skirt, revealing worn traveling shoes. Arwen quickly untied the narrow leather strips and slipped the shoes onto the rock next to her. Still alert, she slid the shoes into her bag and stood up again.

Familiar sensations flooded her nerves as her bare feet touched the ground. The earth here was hard but good, and she stood still for a moment, enjoying the feeling of the dirt under her toes. Her soul ached for the woodlands, and in her heart she could feel the trees yawning towards the sky. Biting back the emotions, she pushed the forest into the shadows of her mind. "_Dina!_ _Tanya farnuva." _(Be quiet! That will suffice/That is enough) she muttered, slightly bitter. "You chose it, you live with it."

She forced herself to take a step, then another and another until she was moving again. Her bare feet heightened her awareness of the terrain and made the traveling easier, and soon she was moving with her usual casual fluidity. Slowly the hard ground turned into a soft, fine powder that clung between her toes, and the fog thinned until she could see the horizon. The soft twinkling came to her again, making her uncomfortable with its close proximity. Straining to hear or see the source without being found, she distinguished a thin but steady hoof beat in the background. "_Ta naa numen" _(they're west) she whispered to herself. Without any more sound, she turned her back to the rising sun and walked back into the mist.

**_Author's Second Note_**: okay, so that was more of a writing exercise than a chapter. Forgive me! I tried to pick up the plot again at the end! begs for mercy Rest assured that more will be coming very, very soon!!!!!!OH! I almost forgot to thank my reviewer!!!!! LOL you know I love you Nayeli!!! "REALLY well written" is darn hard to live up to, but I tried to make it with this! What do you think, M'lady??? To everyone else: please review? Pretty please with sugar on top???


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